Annabelle, Aliens and Abductions
by hummergrey
Summary: Ironhide is protective of Annabelle Lennox. So what happens when a predator appears in her area, kidnapping a child? He suddenly will have Ironhide and Chromia hunting him. More lighthearted than it sounds. Multi chapters. NEXT: Captured so now what?
1. Chapter 1 The school project

**This fic is **_**not **_**an Annabelle / Ironhide pairing. There will be NONE, ABSOLUTELY NOT, ZERO Slash, Smut or sleaze. Not in this fic! **She's a six year old little girl and he's ten thousand years old plus alien mechanical based life form for Pete's sake! He is her guardian and considers her as his own sparkling (kid). This fic touches on a true problem in our world, child abductions. What would the Transformers, especially Ironhide do, when this occurs in her area ? **Not an angst / dark / horror fic.** Do I write anything like that? Absolutely not.Just a mix of the two worlds, humans and Transformers. And here we go, Chapter 1

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR

**** Somerville Elementary, 1****st**** Grade, Mrs. Wagner's Art class. Friday morning. ****

The young blonde teacher clapped her hands to get the classes attention. The children quieted, looking forward. "Today we are working with flexible plastics. You know them as shrinky dinks. Make whatever you want, color it then we can bake it for you to keep."

She held up a plastic square painted with a butterfly then showed the same design much smaller, shaped, hooked and hanging on a necklace chain.

"You can make a charm, pin, and key chain, whatever you want. Just make sure it is something you really want. Our budget is limited and we can only do this one time. "

In the middle of the third row, Annabelle Lennox chewed her bottom lip, trying to decide. Somehow she knew a certain black truck, like the one she always drew, would not be a good idea. Then she smiled, grabbing the red and black markers. Fifteen minutes later, it was done. Dutifully, the child added it to the metal rack and joined the others in recess.

Mrs. Wagner looked over each design, stopping when she reached Annabelle's. "Finally, that child did something more normal. Though I'm not sure what that is. Seems sad somehow." Turning, she placed it in the portable oven with the others, watching the timer carefully.

**** Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 3:55 pm Friday ****

Sarah Lennox waited at the end of the driveway, watching her daughter hop off the school bus. Automatically Sarah glanced over her child, making sure she was not injured and had the backpack, coat and anything else she had left that morning with. "How did school go honey?"

"Okay. We did stuff in art class. Carl pushed Jenny on the playground again and Mr. Wilkins was sick so Ms. Smith did story time. "

"Sounds like a busy day. Hungry?" her mom grinned, the apple and cheese snack waiting in the kitchen.

"I'm always hungry and growing," she copied Sam Witwicky's favorite phrase then giggled. "Are daddy and 'Hide home tomorrow as promised?"

"As far as I know," Sarah opened the front door, waiting for little feet to enter first. "Ironhide is babysitting Saturday night while daddy and I go to dinner."

"YAH!"

"I thought you'd say that. Now get changed and washed up and I'll make spaghetti for dinner."

**** Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 7:20 pm Friday****

Annabelle snuck on sock feet into the kitchen, her shoes carefully left at the bottom of the staircase. Sarah's voice drifted in from her phone call in the living room.

"That's too bad. The Jennings seemed like such a happy couple. I tell you…" the sound of her voice faded as Sarah walked into the den.

The five year old slowly slid open the kitchen junk drawer and began riffling through it. Grinning triumphantly, she hid the tube of super glue in her pants pocket then slid the drawer closed. Creeping back, she picked up the shoes and slowly headed back up the stairs. Bedroom door closed, Annabelle flopped on her bed, giggling.

"Wait until I show 'Hide. " Smearing super glue over the back side of the shrinky dink, she lay down then turned on her right side. With her hand, she put the plastic piece on her left upper arm and pushed down. "Ewwww, feels gross. Smells too. "

Half an hour later, she sat up, and waited to see if the piece would fall. It didn't. "Just in case," she muttered, tying a gauze bandage around it. "Got to stay there until tomorrow." Annabelle tied her shoes on, grabbed her favorite animated DVD and snuck back downstairs. Her mom's voice could barely be heard through the den door. Loading the DVD into the player, she skipped way ahead to the best part and began watching.

The den door opened. "Annabelle, honey are you…oh, there you are. Sorry that call took so long. Want to help me decorate a cake for them coming home tomorrow?"

A delighted screaming child ran for the kitchen, answering in her own way.

**** Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 8:30 am Saturday ****

"Annabelle, time to get up."

"Momma?" a soft voice echoed then gasped, as her memory returned and the child sat up. Excitedly, she pulled the bandage off her arm, glancing down then winced as the skin pulled a little. "Looks good. Wait until I show 'Hide."

Dressing rapidly, she practically shot down the stairs, trying to brush her hair and balance at the same time.

"Slow down there missy!" Mom commanded. "No running on the stairs."

"Dad does. I've seen him and Epps too," she countered.

Sarah frowned, knowing that was the truth. "Ironhide wouldn't want you running on the stairs. You fall and get hurt and he's liable to blow them up with his cannons."

"Uh huh, Daddy forbidded him to use his cannons on or around the house and no more shooting the critters either. Optimus told him too. I heard him. I like Optimus, can he come over too? Like on my birthday, 'cause that would be so cool! And he doesn't have to get me a present or nothing."

"It's forbid him not forbidded and present or anything," Sarah corrected the minute there was a pause for breath. "Now eat your cereal then you can help with chores. This farm doesn't run itself. I'm glad Will got the week off. I need him home." Intent on thoughts of her husband, she missed he small bulge under the girl's shirt sleeve.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2 Autobot Symbol and Breakfast

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and e-mails. Good job to all the people who guessed it was the Autobot logo that Annabelle made and glued to her arm. Moreover, this chapter took a bit more research to be technical for both weapons specialist and medical. Several chapters will be a little darker and carry warnings that they are not all happy. There will be NO SLASH, NO GORE, and NO SMUT OR SLEAZE. The "T" rating on my fics is for Cybertronian swearing to be safe. **:: Is internal comms **between specific mechs only. No audible sound or signal**::**And Jazz is back in my fics. Brought back by the matrix like Prime was.

And one plot spoiler - Annabelle is NOT going to be the one taken. Too many readers (and Autobots) would run me over for that. It is too cliché a plot and I need her innocence to offset other parts later. There are plot twists and surprises coming so please set _story alert _and maybe _author alert _to stay updated. Until all are one, Layra aka hummergrey

IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IH IRONHIDE

Chapter 2

******* Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 7:00 am Sunday Morning ****

"Bye mommy, bye daddy, bye Jazz!" Annabelle called, waving at her parents as they rode in the Autobot warrior assigned to temporarily guard them. Both waved back as Jazz honked his earth style horn. The silver solstice vehicle disappeared out of sight down their driveway. She tilted her head way back, blond hair swinging loosely, as she smiled at her Autobot guardian. "I'm glad you came this morning. I was afraid the bad robots would keep you and daddy away."

"No amount of Decepticons could make me break a promise," Ironhide reassureed. His processors played back images of fighting from the solar cycle the day before too readily. Sunrise had found them arriving at the family farm instead of the day before as promised. "I'm here now and tomorrow is a human holiday so no school. However." The hand holding Annabelle rose directly in front of his optics. One massive square tipped black finger of his other hand stopped directly over her arm bulge. "Why?"

"To be like you," she squealed happily, pulling her sleeve up to show the Autobot symbol. The image was recognizable but wavy lined on the detailing. The top half was red and the bottom half black. "I made it myself because I don't have money for a tattoo like daddy's men get. Mommy never saw it."

"You have not sworn the Autobot oath, and human younglings do not get tattoos," he commented, optics discerning every detail in seconds. The hardness yet short existing nature of the plastic, her fingerprints and bio signature marks and the chemical nature of the substance glued with. Both amusement and pride surged through his systems at the sight.

"Can you teach me the oath?" She asked breathlessly.

"Have to ask command first, need their approval," he stalled while uplinking to the medical frequency.

::Need your help grumpy:: Ironhide

:My help? Let me check the Cybertron relay. Nope, the pit is not frozen. Will be soon. And I am not grumpy!:: Ratchet

::Lennox has methyl cyanoacrylate on the outer dermal layer of skin. How do I remove it?:: Ironhide

::Hold the limb or part securely and pull the other part away. Some dermal tearing may occur. It is a tenacious adhesive especially around porous surfaces with H2O present, like human skin. Acetone will remove residual traces. Take acetylsalicylic acid for pain:: Ratchet advised.

::Take acid? Is your med processor glitched?:: Ironhide snapped.

::Update yours lug head. Acetylsalicylic acid is aspirin. It is a non-steroidal low-grade pain reliever. Two should be sufficient:: Ratchet

::I know aspirin. Speak English next time:: Ironhide

::That is my English:: Ratchet

Focusing outward, Ironhide narrowed his optics. "Do not move Annabelle. I have to remove the symbol."

"No!" The little girl cried, covering it with her hand. Her blue eyes blinked rapidly, heart rate and respiration increasing.

He vented, recognizing signs of human emotional distress. "I will make you a symbol that is truly ours but the adhesive you used is damaging your armor… outer layer."

"It pulls and itches," she admitted. "The black is for you." She pointed to it then sighed, giving in. "If I have to. Is the new one wearable? Can I tell mommy and daddy about it? How long do I have to wait? Not a present is it? Cause Christmas and my birthday are a long way away. I do not want to wait. Can it be red and black? I know, yours is all black but your armor is black. Bumblebee's is red and Optimus is red on one and silver on the other," she continued to chatter, relaxing against his metal palm.

::You got his fingers separated yet? Will Lennox should know better than to repeat the same mistake:: Ratchet

::It is Annabelle Lennox and on her arm. See?:: Ironhide sent a snapshot and its location on the little girl. She closed her eyes and nodded. The thumb on his right hand transformed into three prongs and locked onto the symbol.

::**DON'T TOUCH IT**!:: Ratchet screamed over their frequency.

::What! You fragger! I almost had it:: Ironhide snarled, startled enough he had jumped, jostling Annabelle in his hand. She was laughing, not a trace of fear as long as she was with him.

::You would rip her skin and she would leak eye lubricant over the pain. Slag it! Silverbolt is on a mission and will not return for three joors. No way for me to arrive there quickly. Assimilate this data packet for handling the youngling:: Ratchet ordered.

He opened it, reading on acetone and first aid for children.

:: Follow my instructions exactly and there will be no scar. No arguments either! Humans find scars disfiguring, especially on their young. We can speed the healing but their fragile nature is prohibitive. Armor plating and nannites are far superior. Infections is an issue with dermal breakage and… :: Ratchet continued and Ironhide put the frequency in a recording holding queue while bringing up the secondary frequency.

::Need your help inventor:: Ironhide

::My help? Is the pit frozen? No, you cannot add a third cannon to your head plates:: Wheeljack

::Hardy har har. If you still got arms attached, I need an Autobot logo this size, on a chain: Ironhide sent the requirements.

::Not all my experiments blow up. Moreover, I lost my legs this time. Why a chain? What is wrong with imprinting in the armor directly or applying adhesive?:: Wheeljack

::It is for Annabelle and I want an Autobot distress signal encoded to her and tracing beacon inside:: Ironhide

::Understood. Will get working on it right away:: Wheeljack confirmed then closed the signal.

Ratchet was still giving instructions on the other frequency as Ironhide brought it back up. ::… rest and nourishment. Distract with video entertainment or read a "story" to the youngling. Are you sure you can do this?:: Ratchet

::Yes, yes and yes med bot. I have field dressed wounded NEST soldiers after Decepticon encounters:: Ironhide reminded then closed the frequency. Annabelle sat in his hand, leaning back against his fingers in the warm sunlight. Ten minutes later, he applied a drop of sealant to the bandage edge. Ratchet continued to watch through his optics, but stayed silent on their internal comm line after the last threat the warrior mech had used.

"You were a very brave youngling," Ironhide told Annabelle. She sniffed, looking at the wreckage of her symbol. "My arm is still asleep."

::It's numb not asleep:: Ratchet commented.

::Hush you:: Ironhide sent then touched the girls chin far more gently than his appearance would have suggested. "Don't want to hurt you. Your pain sensors… nerves will online soon enough. Wheeljack says your present is ready."

::Present? What present? You're going to reward her for injuring herself? Only you would do that. Some caretaker you are:: Ratchet grumbled, closing the comm line down.

"When can I have it?" She asked, pushing a blond lock of hair out of her face with a sigh.

"Soon. Even if I have to have Silverbolt fly a special mission," he reassured. The removal of the symbol had been easy yet his system was battle ready from the stress of accidentally causing her harm. He carried her to the front steps, lowering his hand to the front door. She went inside and he strode around outside the house to the kitchen side, pausing by the window over the sink. Kneeling down with a hiss of hydraulics, he focused.

_Externals active. Cannons online and charged. Battle mode on standby. All systems functional. Holographic emitter activated. _

A middle-aged man appeared in the kitchen by the table. Black hair framed a squared face bearing a single scar down the left side across his eye. Broad shoulders framed above a muscular chest and arms. A single tattoo of Chromia's name in Cybertronian glyphs adorned one arm. A black and red flannel shirt hung over blue jeans and black boots.

"Icky," Annabelle complained, frowning. "Can't you look like you?"

His human shaped hologram sighed, shifting to a thousand glimmering lights before reshaping into his mech bi pedal mode, right down to his arm cannons. Her smile made the extra effort and power expenditure worth it.

"I chewed the baby aspirin but I'm hungry. Mommy left you instructions on the fridge," she reminded, tugging her blue shirt sleeve over the arm bandage. Her white one piece jumper bore a single smudge on dirt on one knee.

"I'm a weapons expert, not cook. Not even a word in our language for that function. I carry schematics for energon, pulsar, laser and half a dozen other weapon sources. Not breakfast," he grumbled. His time around NEST soldiers had taught him humans complained about food every time. Never hot enough, too salty, not like mom made and onward until he simply ignored it. Now the lack of information was a knowledge gap he was not about to admit in front of a youngling. Ironhide scanned the note Sarah had left.

_Breakfast: Okay to feed her - scrambled eggs and bacon. Orange juice. _

_Not okay - She will ask for Crispy sugar puffs. Tell her no firmly, and stay with the first choice. _

_Lunch: Ham or turkey with cheese sandwich and tomato soup. Jell-O for dessert. _

_She will ask for peanut butter and strawberry jam. Try to steer her towards lean meats and dairy. _

_Dinner: TV dinner in freezer. _

_She will ask for canned spaghetti and garlic toast with salad. Remember who is in charge. _

Annabelle climbed onto the kitchen chair, waiting. His holographic optics dimmed as he researched the food items.

"Eggs and bacon are?" His physical form outside vented, snapping straight up. "What!" His exclamation sent the nearby pheasants soaring out of the cornfield. "Unborn birds and burnt animal flesh? No fragging way! I would never…. Annabelle can't…. that is warped!" He grumbled, cannons rolling as his hologram disappeared in a flash.

"I want my puffs please?" she asked, looking out the window.

"Any animal parts?" He asked, reforming his hologram into a mini image, transferring his mech processors into standby.

"No, just corn and sugar, all plant made," she pointed to the ingredients list on the side. He nodded agreement without reading and researched the large white container she put on the table next.

"Milk? Looks like used processing gel. What is it?" Optics dimmed again as he searched. "Annabelle! Put that back! You are not drinking pre animal nursing fluids! Get a can of soda pop right now." Giggling, the child obeyed, adding chocolate syrup to the mix.

"Chocolate? Plant based seeds, good for the heart in small doses and pleasing to the females of the species. Hmm, too bad for humans only. Chromia would have liked it." His hologram form walked through the other chair, causing the girl to giggle.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3 Sugar and flying

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. More fun with a guest appearance of two of the Aerialbots. Ironhide, Optimus Prime, Ratchet and the Lennox's are movie verse. Aerialbots are G1 Transformers. Hopefully they will be in the next movie along with Prowl and Elita One. Onward to soaring and wanting more.

SB SB SB SB SB SB SB SB SB SB SB SILVERBOLT

*** Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 7:30 am Sunday Morning ***

Ironhide watched with amusement as Annabelle ran around the yard making vroom vroom sounds, laughing about her driving lessons with the Autobot twins Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. 'So full of energy and light. I'd forgotten the life spark a youngling has." His processing darkened as he imagined that fragile life in the claws of the Decepticons. His cannons rolled, echoing his thoughts until she stopped, peering up at him.

"Can we go for a ride later? I was a good girl and ate all my breakfast. Can we please?" she asked, her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkling.

"Yes, anywhere you want," he answered, pushing away the war and its dark echoes. She cheered, running around her swing set and making car sounds. Her blond hair flowed behind her, her jacket flaring around her blue jumpsuit.

**7:34 am**

"Annabelle, please lower your voice. I am right here, no need to shout young lady," he stated firmly. She pouted, arms crossed then ran across the yard towards the cornfields, scattering the birds from their eating.

**7:39 am **

"No, I will not use my cannons to blast your name in the cornfield." He considered it for half an astro second then remembered his promise to her father to only fire when necessary or to test. His lip plates formed a smile as his weapons began humming. "I can fire one or two blasts into the air. Test them for power settings if you like?" His audios rang with her high-pitched squeal of delight.

**7:42 am**

"No, we cannot ride into town, blow up a police car, and pretend its Barricade." Ironhide watched the red-faced child literally jump over the fallen logs her father made into firewood. "Okay, no more jumping. If you fall, hey!" He exclaimed as she leapt for his extended fingers, swinging up and over gymnastic style into his hand.

"I love you Ironhide. You so funny but not scary. My daddy's soldiers think you are scary but I know better. You are nice and only look mean but not mean cause trucks cannot look mean they only look like trucks. You have wheels and a hood and a bumper but you don't bump stuff except daddy says you bump off Decepticons but we aren't suppose to talk about them because they are mean and scary know what I mean? " She finished breathlessly as his processor caught up.

"Yes and no more talking to Bluestreak when visiting on base. He's a bad influence," he stated, lowering her back to the ground. His processors were beginning to get concerned over her rapid heart rate and boundless energy.

**7:47 am**

"No, we are not going to hunt down Decepticons and tip the seekers over onto their back."

**7:52 am**

"No, I am not having Wheeljack build you a suit of armor with cannons. You are too small….quit screaming!"

**7:58 am**

"_Annabelle!" _

**8:03 am**

::Chromia! Help, the youngling is out of control:: Ironhide sent, his mental tone frazzled.

::Didn't know you controlled a youngling. Guide, direct and take care of but never control old mech of my spark:: Chromia teased.

::Listen up femme. I need help not philosophy:: Ironhide

::I like when you command that way. My guess is you allowed her too much sugar:: Chromia

::Some but not that much frag it! Do you know what her femme creator wanted me to give her?:: Ironhide

_**Autobot Command Uplink Activated **_

::Humans, especially younglings need a variety of proteins and nutrients. Her parental units have the right to choose for their youngling:: Optimus

::Prime! They kill living things! Cute little animals… living beings. They have advanced technology to … hold on:: Ironhide grumbled, focusing completely outward. ::Youngling was trying to climb on the roof again::

::Did he say cute little animals?:: Prowl

::Who is control over there?:: Wheeljack

::I am:: Ironhide growled.

::May I remind you, it was per your orders there is an Autobot rule specifying giving no sugar to Annabelle:: Prowl

::My memory core ain't slagged rule bot:: Ironhide

::Will be when Sarah Lennox finds out what you did:: Ratchet

::That femme is scary. Then again, they all are:: Wheeljack

::I heard that:: Chromia

::With Ironhide yelling and firing cannons I'm surprised you hear anything:: Wheeljack

::So says the mech blowing his arms and legs off::Ratchet

::Better than blowing up everything else:: Wheeljack

::Children, behave:: Optimus

::Help here. Annabelle?:: Ironhide

::Her energy level will decrease as her system metabolizes the sucrose. Monitor vitals and allow energy expenditures:: Ratchet

::That's your advice?:: Ironhide snapped then froze as proximity alarms triggered. ::Inbound Cybertron signals detected! Airborne seekers!::

::Easy, it is Silverbolt and Air raid. Training run:: Optimus

::Special delivery:: Wheeljack chuckled.

::Oh yah, the necklace. Thanks Wheeljack:: Ironhide sent then closed the remaining comm lines. Both Aerialbots hovered above the farm, a massive Hercules jet and a red and white Raptor 22 fighter jet. Transforming, their shaped folding and twisting until their feet rotated down to the touch the ground, stopping in their bi pedal mode.

"Ever hear of staying below the radar?" Ironhide teased, distance sensors confirming the surrounding land was clear of humans and their pesky recording devices.

"With you firing those cannons of yours? Air is still particle charged. Hi Annabelle," Air Raid greeted then swung back and forth watching her run in circles and talk fast. She squealed and he blinked. "I didn't know humans came with sirens."

"They don't," Silverbolt chuckled, removing a tiny package from a slot in his arm. She ran up, caught the dropped package, shredding the wrapping. Almost too fast to see the Autobot amulet was on her neck.

"Love you Ironhide and thank you for the present," she took off screaming across the yard.

"Ingested too much sugar. Like high grade for us bots," Ironhide admitted.

"You got her drunk!" Air Raid shouted, kneeling and trying to catch the girl in his red armored hands.

"NO!" the black armored warrior yelled, startling everybody. Annabelle froze then creeped back to hide behind the smaller Aerialbot.

"Sugar as in overcharges not off processor," Silverbolt hastily explained, edging away from Ironhide.

"Can I go for a ride please?" Annabelle pleaded, eyes intent as she grabbed Air Raid's white leg plating. His optics focused on Ironhide who formed a smirk with his lip plates.

"Okay with me," he said, motioning for him to transform while sending ::Remember she is human and fragile. Fly off some energy and do not ever accuse me of not taking care of her again punk::

A minute later, they were soaring up into the sky and the clouds. "Are you sure that is wise?" Silverbolt asked then noticed the tracking display on Ironhide's wrist. "Ah, testing the tracking signal."

"Faster! Faster! Faster!" She cheered inside the cockpit, hanging onto the restraints strapped across her body.

"Here we go!" Air Raid answered back, increasing acceleration until her vitals began fraying. Slowing, he let his engines stall, gravity free for a pure moment before plunging down. He released the tension on the seatbelt straps, letting her float up in the cockpit. Falling rapidly, he engaged his engines while pulling her body back tight to the seat. The thrust surge pushed her back as he leveled out, below radar and barely above the ground with his backwash.

::What the frag are you doing? Readings are all over the scanner:: Ironhide

::Playing. She loves it! Most human pilots scream more and more as I go faster or dive. She's screaming for more! No wonder you love this human:: Air Raid

::I'll make you scream if she… she…. :: Ironhide

::Please return the youngling to her guardian. He is becoming upset the longer they are separated:: Silverbolt

::Yes sir. Changing course now:: Air Raid stalled, rising to stand on end in the air before flipping over and barrel rolling to rocket back towards the Lennox farm.

_To be continued…_


	4. Chapter 4 Learning of danger

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. Okay, William Lennox's middle name is not mentioned anywhere I can find. So I added it based on his middle initial. One of those _traditional, awful, I hate to say it publicly_ middle names. And Silverbolt is the largest of the Aerialbot jets and at least double the height of Optimus Prime though it changes from comic to cartoon to cartoon episode.

This chapter contains more dialogue than action as the bots are on Diego Garcia Island in the Indian Ocean and the Lennox farm is in Iowa? Not sure exactly. Onward to friends and their well meaning help.

*** Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 8:48 am Sunday Morning ***

Silverbolt viewed Ironhide with sympathy. The black armored mech waited, his face turned skyward, feet pads grounded, chassis braced with arm cannons lightly rolling. The Aerialbot leader felt compelled to reassure him same as he would one of his own flyers. "I understand the challenges. Humans are like us yet their young are vastly different. No ability to connect to their programming directly and they do not remember everything they are told or experience. Major Lennox considers you an excellent guardian and has repeatedly stated that."

"Mmpf," the mech answered, switching between watching the tracking locator on his wrist and the distant sky. He ignored the large mech towering overhead. 'Prime is right. I can't blast every bot that irritates me. Run out of bots and friends too quickly.' A massive shadow surrounded him as Silverbolt moved to face him directly, blocking out the sun.

"Can you lower the setting on her energy modulator?" the Aerialbot asked, his folded wings edges shining in the morning light.

"Humans don't have one."

"Unhook half her power cables?" He suggested next.

"Youngling is flesh and blood, no central power source to disconnect from without offlining," Ironhide stated.

"Not even a battery backup? Change out and drain from the main core? "

"No," he vented rapidly, checking the tracker locator again.

"How do the human parental units handle it?" Silverbolt finally asked, rubbing his chin plates thoughtfully.

"With lots of aspirin and grey hair."

A glint of light was their only warning to dive to the ground. "Turbo revving punk!" Ironhide swore at the black F-15 eagle combat jet blew by, wingtips skimming their ground level chassis.

:Surprise!:: Air Raid

::Are we suppose to do that to our fellow Autobots?:: Silverbolt sent, twisting and climbing back to his feet. He ignored Ironhide snickering as he reached behind with an armored hand and removed Annabelle's plastic kiddy pool from his left aft plate.

The black jet hovered, touching wheels to the ground to land without jarring. Annabelle waved at them both, reaching for Ironhide, her fingers wiggling in a 'pick me up' motion he was long familiar with. He obliged, letting her flop onto his open palm from the cockpit.

"You're lucky she didn't purge her tanks," Ironhide warned.

"Never happen. She's a natural. Can fly with me anytime," the young bot encouraged, transforming into his bi pedal mode. Annabelle blew a kiss his way before the hand under her swiveled her next to black chest plates and away from the Aerialbot acrobat.

Silverbolt shook his head, making a mental note to talk to Prime about why each guardian of a human ended up adopting them like their own. Stepping back, he half bowed towards Annabelle before starting to transform. His head rotated inward as white wings folded out, sliding into position. Both legs flipped up to his torso, metal shifting and changing inward and tightening to his C-5 Galaxy alt mode. Hovering, the huge plane's nose brushed aside the first row of corn while his tail barely fit between the barn and house. Rising up on thermal lifts, he flashed his lights then rose higher before engaging his engines and blasting off.

"Bye bye," Annabelle waved even as Ironhide curled his fingers around her to block the cornstalks sent airborne with the backwash. Peeking out between thick blacks fingers, bright blue human eyes met blue optics, "Thank you Air Raid. Come visit, promise?"

"Anytime sunshine," Air Raid waved at her, and then transformed to follow Silverbolt. In seconds, only the echo of their sonic boom remained. The mech grimaced at the deep square impressions their feet had left in the soil. His multi spread foot pads did little damage and never on Sarah's flowers. A quick glance showed those were intact in their flower beds, only a rail edge flattened in a square print.

"I had fun!" Annabelle cheered, sitting in the middle of Ironhide's palm. One hand twirled the flying helmet while the other pulled at a crooked hair braid.

"Don't get used to it," he grumbled jealously.

"We went fast and high up then I floated and we fell and fell until whoom he burned a lot of fuel I bet. He is okay but sky is sky and all looks the same. You always go somewhere different and tell great stories and I love you," she finished breathlessly. Her little arms wrapped tightly around his finger as she smiled up at him. The old mech felt a wave of relief sweep his processors.

Yawning, she snuggled inside his curved hand. In two minutes, she was sound asleep. Worried, his optics medically scanned her. "Youngling takes forever to enter recharge; ah… the sucrose in her blood has decreased." Ironhide watched the young child while she slept then began the transform sequence, folding his entire chassis around her. Parts moved, shifting and rotating to form his Topkick alt mode, her body sliding down to be enclosed in the interior of his cab. The seat softened, as his cooling fans circulated the air and a stasis field locked the cab against possible intrusions better than any earth designed lock. "Worth spending a week in med bay to alter my transform sequence to safeguard her. Shouldn't have to transform then shift her in and out like a spare cannon part."

The drive back to the farmhouse was short and without incident. He hesitated on what to do next then turned and backed in against the side of the barn. "Confirming all perimeter relays active. Linking into my systems, now. Engaged and operational. Lessen any surprise attacks," he affirmed. Red Alert, ever paranoid had worked with Wheeljack and Hoist to design below ground sensors similar to the ones every Autobot scout carried. No bot had ever mentioned the twelve sensors that disappeared from storage. Ironhide had covered the farm boundary with them.

Internal communications pinged with a satellite bounce relay from Diego Garcia. The message was a human e-mail, time delayed from the day before. Intrigued, he opened it to see Sarah's reminders of what to do about Annabelle eating, playing and effective ways to get the little girl to recharge faster. His expression changed to a scowl with the last sentence.

"_I am reassured knowing you are with her. With all the child luring in our area I know she is safe. Take care of our baby, Sarah Lennox. _

"Luring? As in fishing? What danger is there in children attempting to secure a water creature? Annabelle knows how to swim," he puzzled, linking digitally onto the human internet to research 'child luring.' Only redundant safety coding locks kept him from transforming to his bi pedal mode and firing his cannons in rage. His anger fought with safety programs to keep his alt mode still lest the sleeping form of Annabelle, without a seatbelt on, slam around inside his cab.

He electronically dialed Will Lennox's personal cell phone and got an _out of service area_ message before activating voicemail. "William Reginald Lennox!" he yelled. "There was a child kidnapping next county over and you never told me? Five in the last year in surrounding areas and no additional safety measures for Annabelle? No armor or weapons upgrades for her? What the frag were you processing? That pit spawned mech … monster in human skin needs termination, effective immediately! Why is that being still functional? You could have called for help, I will help locate and terminate him! Answer. And… Annabelle is fine. Had breakfast and played in the yard and fresh air. Ironhide clear."

The weapons specialist reviewed what he knew of family safety measures. His systems only contained basics and none of it child specific when off the family farm. Internal signals activated, receiving a text relay from Will's phone.

_* Bad call area. Yes, we knew. Sarah meets Annabelle at school bus morning and afternoon. Annabelle is smart and knows stranger danger. Did not want you to worry big guy. Part of raising a child. Call later when in good reception area. Will and Sarah *_

"Part of raising a child?" He repeated in disbelief as his processor surged. "They expect and allow this behavior! No slagging way! Of all the disastrous, inane…" he growled, linking to the Autobot mainframe at Diego Garcia. "Files on this if I know Ratchet and Red Alert. Human structural limitations, requirements to terminate, hunt detection capabilities, and geographical maps of this area."

::What now?:: Ratchet

:Didn't call you medic:: Ironhide

::You are accessing my database. Cannon specs are not there:: Ratchet

::Looking for something else::: Ironhide

::Do my communication chips deceive me? You searching for information? Finally found something you could not blow up the first ten times?:: Ratchet

:: Researching about child luring:: Ironhide grumbled back.

:What! Is Annabelle….:: Ratchet

::Asleep in my alt mode cab. And I pity the being that even focuses his optics her way:: Ironhide

::Found out about the kidnappings then?:: Wheeljack

::YOU KNEW?!:: Ironhide

::Overheard Will tell Epps regarding a call from Sarah. Thought you knew:: Wheeljack answered, the honesty of his response transmitting in his vocal tone.

::Need help hunting?:: Sideswipe eagerly chimed in.

::We are free from the brig in two breems:: Sunstreaker

::How ? What?:: Wheeljack sputtered.

::Private conversation:: Ironhide sent their way.

::Uh huh. You keyed the word hunt, terminate and a geographical search by the Lennox farm. Got our attention:: sideswipe

::You have alerts in our mainframe?:: Wheeljack

::How else to know what is going on?:: Sunstreaker

::In the brig means punishment not social hour:: Prowl interrupted, his professional sounding second in command tenor tone reminding them of the rules.

::Not a social call:: Sideswipe protested.

::Hunting a predator:: Sunstreaker affirmed.

::Predator? That species has made landfall on earth?:: Prowl's tone wavered with disbelief.

::Human who preys on younglings predator:: Ironhide clarified, his anger overlaying the line with static.

::Oh:: Prowl

::A threat nonetheless :: Optimus regal baritone sounded.

::You are scheduled to be in a Pentagon Joint Chiefs of staff meeting:: Prowl

:: I am. Multi tasking. Developed the skill in my second frame, refined on the battlefield:: Optimus

::Is that why you are always monologue with Megatron when you two fight? Regular talk fest:: Sideswipe

::I heard that. And when all my officers are on the same call, one that is unscheduled, I had better monitor as Prime:: Optimus

::Good point boss bot:: Bumblebee

::Any bot not on this fragging frequency?:: Ironhide

::Alert key in mainframe to dangers of kidnapping humans. Set my alert after Sector 7 to help guard Sam and Mikeala:: Bumblebee

::How does that help?:: Wheeljack

::Humans follow patterns. If I know what they do, can keep optics out around my family:: Bumblebee

::Wise precaution. Our human allies are fragile and turn on their own rapidly::Optimus

:: I intend to turn one of them into mush:: Ironhide

::Ironhide! We do not hurt humans. Promise me you will not cripple or offline that human if you catch him:: Optimus

::I promise and thanks for giving me permission to get him Prime!:: Ironhide gleefully answered.

::What? I didn't mean that.. I meant..oh frag:: Optimus

_To be continued…_


	5. Chapter 5 Child lost and found

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews. I was going to have this chapter more intense and angst then could not do it. It is a little darker than the previous chapters but the kidnapped child _**IS ALIVE**_. Scaled back and had him escape rather than turn up offlined. Had a dramatic scene with Hound finding the body, a funeral and Autobots attending in their alt modes, even Optimus grieving as the Aerialbots flew overhead then scrapped it. Life has enough sorrows without adding to it, just watch the news.

Thanks to fellow writer karategal for her idea of the Rufus teddy bear body with face of Optimus Prime with his battle mask engaged. Was a toy in her fic for a baby Bumblebee. Used with her permission and read her fic, it is great.

Chromia is based on the cartoon G1 version with a tough attitude and relationship with Ironhide, researched on tf wiki using term "Chromia." I use her G1 vehicle alt mode and not a motorcycle from the movie verse. * Ironhide rolls cannons in background* Some bot is getting anxious to go hunting. Onward to phone calls and connecting to others.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

*** Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 11:35 am Sunday Morning ***

The farm was calm as the noon hour approached. No alien robots or human trespassers triggered the perimeter defenses, the only movement were black crows eating corn in the fields, unaware of how target locks practiced marking them. The ancient black warrior mech remained parked against the barn as he had done all morning. Mechanical systems had cables slack, fluids pumping in place without tiring as human muscles would have done. His systems simultaneously surfed the internet, watched four different television channels, listened to two news radio stations and tapped into the Diego Garcia sensor net for alerts while reviewing strategy and tactics of previous battles.

Movement in his alt mode cab interrupted his thought processing. On command, the stasis around his cab unlocked as a blinking, sleepy eyed Annabelle sat up. The six-year-old child rubbed a fist across her eyes, yawning then putting both hands on her stomach. "My tummy hurts," she complained. Instantly med scans covered her, making her giggle as the energy tingled across her skin. Readings indicated general gastro upset with all other vital signs normal.

He opened the driver door, remaining immobile as she slid out, balancing on the metal step before hopping down. A few short steps and she was clear. He transformed back to his normal bi pedal mode before grunting, popping out his right leg latch, pulling out medical first aid supplies. "Let's see, not suitable for children under twelve, how about this? Not suitable for children and infants," he read repeatedly on each item. "Any of this slagging stuff for kids? Humph, no wonder the soldiers are happy. Adults get everything."

"Here," he finally handed her peppermint candies from his left lower leg hatch. "Chew on these then we can go in the house and see what you femme parental unit has for you," he stalled, having scanned through the walls and knew exactly what was in the family's medicine cabinet. Another quick check confirmed nothing inside was suitable for a child her age. He considered calling Sarah then decided against that. A check of uploaded medical files provided time and regular food was the best solution. He lowered his hand, allowing her to climb on.

::Hey little blast, you functional? :: Chromia chimed in over their private comm line

::You would be the first to know if I wasn't:: Ironhide corrected grumpily even as his systems soared. She alone could use his nickname from his own time as a youngling.

::Second. First would be Ratchet would be dragging your chassis into med bay, grumbling all the way. After he corners me for a checkup, scheduled to start a breem ago. Oops, my bad. Was not pay attention to the time, much:: Chromia

::You cannot avoid him on base, it is an island in the middle of an ocean. And he knows all the hiding spots. Optimus, Bumblebee and I have tried. He can find a bot better than any scout can:: Ironhide

::Hah! Will not find me on base. I am approaching your area with Hound in tow speaking of scouts. Practice run for him on Aerialbot traces and never been to the farm. We should arrive in approximately three breems. How is the human youngling?:: Chromia

::Fuel tank is churning but settling from too much sugar:: Ironhide admitted.

::Bet you gave her more, like candy?:: Chromia sent, chuckling as she closed the comm line. He walked slowly back towards the house, careful not to jar the little girl he was holding. By the front porch, she stayed in his hand rather than get down. The Lennox house phone rang, his systems automatically pulling the caller id on it. "Not parents," he told her, listening in covertly as it went to voicemail.

"_Sarah? It is Jane Lexington again. Update from last night. They found him alive, thank God! Letting you know, bye."_

Ironhide frowned, recognizing the sounds of an emotionally strained human femme. "Tapping the phone line now," he backtracked it to the digital box, pulling the voicemail from the day before. 'Never listened then, not my business."

"_Sarah? It is Jane Lexington. Marsha's little boy is missing. Went to the skate park yesterday with his brothers then split for a friend's house and played there then walked home only he never made it. Family figured he stayed the night like before only no one has seen him since the park. Have you? Give me a call either way. Sheriff is organizing a search party by 2 pm if he stays missing. Unfortunately," the woman paused, her breath catching in her throat, "he matches the descriptions of the missing kids next county over. Say hi to Will and keep Annabelle close. I'll keep you informed, bye."_

He growled before noticing Annabelle watching him with big eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing you've done youngling. Chromia and Hound are coming and…. going too fast. Breaking the speed limit," he switched to a different reason processing while he was concerned, Annabelle should not be.

"Oh, breaking the law. Daddy and mommy do that too. Only mommy knows the police officers and they tell her to slow down without tickets. Her dad, my grandpa, was sheriff before she met daddy. She helps them with charity events and working at my school," the little girl explained, her upset stomach forgotten.

He filtered her comments through his tactical analyzer then accessed the family computer while waiting for Chromia to pull in. 'As I suspected, e-mails routed to their server. Quick trace, access, and I know what they know.' Data flashed into a minor processor, updating him. 'I thought our twins were trouble, these humans act then regret and try to get out of the trouble they've earned. Worse, they do it again and again getting offlined or offlining others.'

The house telephone rang again, Ironhide listening in.

"_Sarah? It's Officer Sawyer. The boy showed up, hurt but alive. Bruises and dehydrated only. Getting a description on who grabbed him now. They had him bound but he wiggled out of the tape on his wrists and feet. Car stopped to get gas and he sprang out of the back seat. Only camera at the gas station was inside to prevent employee theft and the driver never slid the gas card. Your stuffed teddy odd face whatever, calmed him right down. Took to it and will not let it go. Be stopping by later in the week for more of them as they make a difference with the children. Hope we never need them but they help." The voice pause then continued. "By nightfall we should have that pervert. Heaven help him if the family catches him first. They are up at the hospital now. See you when I can, goodbye." _

"Annabelle, does your mom make toys?" He lifted her close to his optics.

"Yup. She makes Rufus bear like the one Bumblebee had," she started.

He optics dimmed as he recalled the toy. 'Soft body like a teddy bear and head resembling Optimus with his facemask on. Annabelle has one on base. Thought it was a secret.'

"I took mine to school and everyone liked it. Wasn't suppose to but she and daddy never said not to. She makes them for the police officers to give to kids when they are scared of hurt. Only she makes them promise to never sell them or give them to strangers, the police officers promise not the kids." Her expression turned serious. "I like you being here Ironhide. I'm never scared with you. I wish every kid could have a transformer to protect them." She hugged the side of his head crest, her hands barely clearing the end of the engraved metal.

The blaring of an approaching car horn sent the crows in the cornfield into noisy panic, fleeing into the sky. "Chromia!" Annabelle cheered, standing and looking towards the road as her alt mode zipped up the private drive. Back further, behind the main dust cloud her wheels kicked up, a green army jeep followed. "Hound!" The little girl waved, secure as he held her so high above the ground.

Both slowed, transforming into their bi pedal modes and waving back. Annabelle squealed, hopping onto Hound's green armored hand when he offered it to her.

SNICKT CLICK CHIRR CHIRP

The scout greeted her, listening as she began answering him back in the same language. As expected, she focused on him and not the embracing couple behind her. Chromia leaned against Ironhide's chest armor as he leaned his head down atop hers. No words were needed. Thousands of years of separation had not lessened their love for each other.

"Ready to hunt?" He sent a data burst with all the information, phone calls and tactics.

Chromia smiled, her predatory emotions matching his. "Already linked into their primitive system." A holographic satellite map of the area appeared above her palm as she stepped back out of his embrace. "They found him here, these are the two main roads. Traffic cams are rare and no other systems I can locate."

"Aren't any Chromia. That is all they got around here," he grunted, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist plates.

"What? My left arm has more detection equipment than this whole county," she challenged, her blue optics darting over to the blond haired child with Hound.

"Budget money determines what and where and it's their choice. The treaty forbids sharing advanced technology. Their government want weapons, not scanners or trackers," he reminded.

"Any race that turns on their own younglings is as bad as the Decepticons and deserve to be armed. Problems are only a problem until caught and offlined," she vented roughly. "Never get Prime's permission for us to pursue either."

"Already got it. No offlining or crippling, rest is as needed," he smirked at her.

"You two want to join in? Having difficulty finding the right Cybertronian word to equal cartoon troublemakers," Hound interrupted, his vocal tone merry.

"Twins!" They both replied at the same time before laughing. Chromia raised her hand, chirping and taking the conversation over. His optics slid towards Ironhide in understanding, transferring the girl to the tall warrior femme.

Ironhide sent him a data packet containing all the defenses, high points, weak spots and layout of the farm tactically. "Need you to watch Annabelle. Going to scout a private mission. Be back before nightfall."

Hound whistled, "She is safer here than Diego Garcia. Should have had those plans around the Allspark shard."

"The shard is retrievable from Megatron's shattered frame. She is not, no youngling is," he stressed.

_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6 Who is hunting who?

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews and the patience with the gap between postings. I did take time to research psychologically child predators and included a bit here. More chapters to come. Onward to the hunt with Ironhide and Chromia.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

The flickering street light cast intermittent shadows, highlighting an empty soda cup blowing onto the road. Crunching over the cup, the black ghost like shape pulled into the deserted parking lot, the abandoned restaurant boarded up. Engine revving deeper than any earth made design, he parked nearly touching bumpers with the waiting blue sports car. In the last rays of the setting sun, the empty vehicles went unnoticed by the few passing travelers.

"Hey handsome, drive this area often?" Chromia greeted her sparkmate. The warrior femme felt frustrated at the lack of an obvious trail. Her assumptions of the human's being primitive notched back a little at the easy way the man had evaded the law enforcement and them so far. Every local broadcast signal carried the report, the physical description with the TV news and online links showing the police sketch.

"Not often enough to catch the glitch. We are spinning in circles. We promised to be back before nightfall if we could and it is past that. Will and Sarah return tomorrow and I will not allow this danger to remain loose. Time to make it personal," he grunted.

"Personal as in Ratchet's eighteen comm threats for skipping my med exam this morning or personal as in returning to the farm and Annabelle? Hound says she's sitting on the couch watching TV, waiting for our return," Chromia asked.

"As long as he tucks her in by bed time. Personal as offering bait the predator can't resist. I'm going to use my hologram," Ironhide explained.

"Law enforcement like Prowl?"

"No. Though he will answer for his crimes," the ancient warrior's deep tone sent pulses of excitement down her neuro spine. Spark mated, they were matched on the battlefield on and off.

"Bad aft Nest soldier holding lots of weapons?" She guessed.

"No, I want his aft, not scare him off it. Bait like this," he grunted concentrating.

_Externals active. Cannons online and charged. Battle mode on standby. All systems functional. Holographic emitter activated, alternate image number four unlocked. _

A human child, black haired with bright blue eyes shimmered into existence. The hologram wore a red shirt and brown shorts with gold chest plating and gold helmet with a big red feather. A plastic sword swung at waist level as he moved.

"Roman soldier? I almost forgot the twins changed your hologram to that," Chromia said.

"I hadn't. Adjusting external coverings now," he said as the clothes shifted to brown cowboy boots, blue jeans and a 'go army' green t-shirt, all sized to fit the small boy's shape.

"What makes you process the predator will try again?" Her tone carried her curiosity of his assurance. Human behavior to her resided in a medical file or army procedures during encounters, not the general populace.

"Human coding flaws. His system has an embedded disorder correlated with several different neurological abnormalities, and often co-exist with other personality disorders and psychological pathologies," Ironhide answered, external sensors scanning the area to confirm they were alone as he double checked the stability of the hologram.

"Say what? You've been around Ratchet too long lover," Chromia rocked on her alt mode axles.

"His last victim escaped before being harmed. He needs another, like a craving he can't escape. Researched it. Know your enemy. Third rule of survival," he reminded, the hologram wearing a serious non-child like expression.

"The first two rules being?"

"Know who not to slag off and where the nearest exit is, rule four is making your own exit when needed," he commented, dissolving the hologram. "Take the interstate back and cruise through the other end of town. Start nearest the road where his last victim escaped. Bet he ain't smart enough to break the pattern."

::Sounds like he escaped out of med bay before the final program locks could fix the damage?:: Chromia switched to internal comms, their alien hearing able to screen out their voices over their engines but no need to.

::Didn't escape 'Mia. Human predators are not identified as their coding becomes flawed and placed under medical care:: Ironhide locked his targetting sensors on the blue and red pickups racing the other direction, noting the shotguns and rifles locked onto the back windows.

::Rewrite his baseline coding when he is caught?:: Chromia suggested, rolling behind him. Her digital expertise allowed her to hack and link into the few cameras in the area.

::Not possible for a human. Even our species forbids it except in extreme cases:: Ironhide slowed, obeying the speed limits as they neared the residential part of the town.

::Targeting defenseless younglings is an extreme offense:: Chromia protested, her disgust clear.

::Not to the humans. Their culture is violence. Surprised they did not side with the Decepticons:: Ironhide reminded, slowing and turning down the road leading to the public park.

::Probably afraid the humans would take over. Then what is the cure?:: Chromia slowed and stopped, positioning a short distance away as backup.

::Isn't one. Offlining solves the problem one hundred percent. Other measures attempt to contain are less effective. They only extend the suffering of the patient and allow potential offlining of his next victims:: Ironhide answered, parking in the handicap space, a holographically handicap placard hanging from his center mirror. The passenger door opened, the little boy illusion hopping down and walking across the bark dust towards the metal slide.

::Can't have him hurting or hurting others:: Chromia agreed.

::Look online light of my spark::Ironhide sent, his net array detecting movement.

The blue Ford truck slowed, the teenage driver frowning at the young boy playing alone. Mud covered the tires and splattered halfway up the side, hiding the rodeo emblems and horse logos their optics could see. Idling at the stop sign, the driver hesitated. White lights flashed on as he threw it into reverse. The driver side window rolled down before the freckled red headed teen leaned out nearly in line with the little boy. "You get on home! Ain't safe no mores! What ya ma thinkin' if sumthing happened!"

Growling softly, the little boy nodded before running towards the GMC Top kick, the passenger door opening as he neared. Once seemingly inside, Ironhide rocked once on his axles as the blue pickup sped off, the teenage driver blowing past the stop sign.

"Learn to drive junior and mind your own face plates," Ironhide yelled after him, his alt mode rocking.

::Least he cared:: Chromia snickered.

::Humph. I got temporary cog gears older than him:: Ironhide sent with his hologram reappearing in the middle of the play area near the jungle gym climber.

::Lone human approaching. Identifies female:: Chromia reported, narrowing in on the sounds of the woman's high heels tapping on the cement sidewalk.

Talking on her cellphone, the human woman did a double take at the boy watching her intently from the slide. She saw only a child alone while he scanned her deep enough to see the metal plate screwed into her leg bone hidden under her skin and short length dress.

::Unarmed and post injured. Incapable of rapid flight on those feet pad covers. Does any human consider their safety around here?:: Ironhide sent, his weapon's specialist processor covering all areas of potential combat.

"Hang on a minute Rose, I'm needed elsewhere. Yes, its more important than the hairdresser using the wrong rinse color on your hair," she said, the cellphone shifting away from her ear. The dark haired woman considered stepping onto the bark dust with her open toed sandals before looking up at the youngster. "What are you doing out after sunset young man? And where is your mother? Is she on the PTA? I'll have words with her I will."

Across the park, a flash of light preceded the woman appearing in black leather boots, legging and tank top. Glyph tattoos covered both arms, a spiked dog collar around her neck, matching her rough cut short spiky hair. A new flash and the image of Judy Witwicky materialized.

"Samuel! There you are!" Judy's image yelled, placing both hands on her hips. Scowling at him, her bright blue eyes narrowed. "I ordered you to remain stationary and you cross out of the designated play area. One more problem and its the brig for you."

The boy smiled, moving towards her. "Aww parental…mom I mean. It was only for an astro second."

"Hold on Rose, I'm almost done," the human woman talked into the cellphone before facing back towards Judy's image. "Keep your kids close! Didn't you read the flyer they sent home with the kids? Bake sale on Friday at the school, all day! Come support our sports progams," she waved and resumed walking down the sidewalk. Her voice carried as she chatted, rounding the far corner past the stop sign, still talking. "Weird city folk moving in here I swear. But they bring money and I so hope the bake sale covers those new uniforms."

::Want to bet the sheriff is next? Or a camera crew?:: Chromia teased, shifting her hologram back to her normal spiked collar style.

Two hours later they had three more false encounters, humans worried and warning them irritating Ironhide more. ::They say 'stay safe' instead of 'let me offline this monster!' Why do they spend more time guarding against evil rather than eliminating it?::

:: We haven't been successful eliminating the Decepticons. Though they fear you:: Chromia reminded. Silence met her comment before her spark mate sent a pulse of love across their link.

::What did I ever do to deserve you?:: Ironhide crooned, tempted to leave and show her his love at the farm.

::Be handsome and thick plated?:: Chromia teased as her farthest sensor array triggered, another earth vehicle approaching.

::He's here. I smell 'im:: Ironhide growled, his headlights and the holographic eyes moving towards the west as the rough running sounds of the engine became clearer.

::We don't smell lover. Bumblebee's term for the result of all our advanced arrays uses the word smell but that is not accurate:: Chromia teased, her systems heightening. The battle sense they never could explain swept over them, a shared strength of purpose.

The dusty station wagon slowed, passing the park but staying close to the center yellow line to avoid the overhead street light. To the Autobots, their sensors scanned him down to the burnt oil needing replacement and the driver's increasing heart rate. Darkness obscured the license plate to human eyes, but not their optics. In the park, the boy slid down the slide, running around to climb up the stairs and slide down again without ever turning to see.

:: Coming around the block again. The earth vehicle was reported stolen last night. You were right, he returned.:: Chromia noted, her hearing tracking his out and around path.

:: Here fleshy fleshy. Take the bait:: Ironhide processed, his image walking closer to the edge of the road, the small hands holding an iPod as if to drown out other noises. Physically his alt mode rolled silently forward, creeping up from behind. Black armored, he drove without headlights, hidden in the dark.

:: Door is soundless, half expected it to creak or fall off. What a junker:: Chromia commented, moving along side Ironhide's alt mode as the man slid out of the idling vehicle. Under six feet tall but pudgy, he pulled the flannel shirt over his hanging beer belly absently before licking his greasy lips. Stains covered his clothes, the edges of his jeans frayed over the wide tennis shoes.

:: Him or the truck? Come here, see what I have for you:: Ironhide silently encouraged, feeling the anticipation rising like energon rushing in his lines.

Both hands out, the man slithered forward before lunging at the boy. One large hand swung around his small waist to grab and lift as the other hand covered his mouth, or tried to. Exploding outward with blinding light, the child disappeared. The human dropped to one knee, yelling. Cursing and rubbing at his eyes, he never heard the sounds of two transformations behind him.

_To be continued…._


	7. Chapter 7 Captured so now what?

Author's notes: Thanks for the reviews. And thank you to all you tried to guess what happens next, though no one got it quite right. Then again if there were no twists or surprises where would the fun be? And yes, there is a real pot pie with those stats.

TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TF TRANSFORMERS

**** Lennox Family Farm, Watson County, 10:22 pm ****

::Yes Ratchet I scanned her arm down to the cellular level, no sign of infection or post injury scarring:: Hound reassured their medic, glad the other couldn't see the sleeping child. The green armored scout's adventures rarely landed him in med bay but it was enough for him to know who not to slag off. And the diminishing sugar levels in her bloodstream would not be good to mention. He glanced down at the house's front porch, a smile forming on his faceplates.

Annabelle lay in her favorite quilt curled up in the swinging porch chair. The quilt a custom made gift from Bumblebee with an image of Optimus and the other transformers pictured on its front. The smallest bots in the first row with Bumblebee, Arcee, Skids and Mudflap to the last row with Optimus, Ultra Magnus and Silverbolt towering over all the others. A designated secret, she kept it hid in her bedroom under the pink princess quilt. Or until the Transformers visited, each signing their name by their image. The glyph for Hound's name dried enough to draw in the porch light and glow in the dark later.

::What did you feed her? Human children have strict nutritional requirements. And that does not include sugar!:: Ratchet grumpily reminded over the frequency.

::No sir, no sugar. She ate the dinner items her parental unit listed in her instructions:: Hound covered, shying away from where on the list they were. His memory core flashed the image of Sarah's note, the specific line across his optics.

_Dinner: TV dinner in freezer. She will ask for canned spaghetti and garlic toast with salad. Remember who is in charge. _

The green armored scout had nearly stalled reading the first choice Annabelle handed him. "Creamy Parmesan Chicken Pot Pie. 1,060 calories, 1,440 mg salt, and 64 g fat. Why that's enough salt for eight small bags of potato chips and the fat of 23 strips of bacon! You can't eat this!" He had exclaimed, cross referencing Ratchet's food program uploads as she giggled.

"Daddy loves those pot pies. Only he kinda forgets how to program the microwave and they blow up," she admitted, wrapping one ponytail around her fingers.

"I'll blow it up," Hound grinned before tossing the cardboard box into the sky. "Want to see if I can hit it?" Annabelle's squeal confirmation enough. Swiveling, his shoulder rocket launched, blowing it apart in a fireworks display worthy of any county fair.

"Metal encased long cylindrical pasta with red fruit sauce, no dead animals included," he announced, a mini blade sliding out of his fingertip to open the can.

"Canned spaghetti, no meatballs," Annabelle corrected, her long blonde hair swinging as she laughed. Now she slept, snuggled against the cool of the night. Shortly, he would transfer her inside to her bedroom before pulling a light recharge mode himself.

::Has Ironhide reported in?:: Optimus asked, joining the conversation.

:: I received an update two breems ago. Says he has the situation contained:: Hound reported crisply, his attention split between the comm call and the sleeping girl.

::Meaning he blew up two things instead of three. News at eleven:: Ratchet grumbled.

::Ironhide is a specialist capable of keeping our secret and his oaths. Notify us if there are any changes:: Optimus ordered.

Hound considered a request to be the backup guardian for the Lennox family then passed. Anything capable of getting through Ironhide then Chromia would take him out in a spark pulse. ::Will do sir:: Hound closed the frequency, optics scanning the perimeter alarms. A single motion detector activated, indicating a small organic shape. Long range vision activated, thermal readings indicating its size.

'Class: mammalia, order: carnivora, family: procyonidae, named "procyon lotor" aka raccoon," Hound identified. Targeting locks honed in, a single laser beam firing with absolute precision. In the field, the raccoon froze, eyes blinking in its black masked face as the rustling settled. Creeping forward, two furry paws reached out, pulling the downed large acorn branch closer. Deft hands stripped the acorns before dunking them in the nearby water ditch to share with the three baby racoons following it.

At the farm house, a faint smile formed on metal lip plates as the motion sensors reported no other intrusions.

**** Somerville, Watson County, County Highway B45 ****

::Is he still yelling?:: Chromia asked, her blue alt mode steadily following behind her spark mates black GMC top kick form.

::More whimpering. And he leaked lubricant on my seat! :: Ironhide groused, his mental tone disgusted.

::He's scared with no idea where he's going or what will happen to him:: Chromia reminded.

::Same as his victims:: Ironhide growled back, swerving side to side across the dual lanes of the road to throw the man around inside his alt mode cab.

::There are easier ways to offline him, less messy too:: Chromia slowed, her sensor array confirming the crossroads empty of traffic as they passed through the traffic light without stopping.

::Not trying to. Much as he deserves to have his aft rearranged:: Ironhide

::Then what? You are not considering taking him all the way back to NEST are you? Turn him over to Prowl or Ratchet for treatment? Wait, you said there was no cure:: Chromia

::Scanning for a gathering of humans:: Ironhide answered, sending her a data burst of the plan. His memory core flashed back to the exact moment of capture, looming over the human predator. 'He doesn't deserve this,' Ironhide thought, initiating a rare and specialized transform. Chromia watched wide optic as the large black armored warrior fell forward, armored hands slapping the pavement alongside the cowering human. Parts rotated, sliding into his top kick alt mode around the human without endangering his fragile body.

::You altered your transform?:: Chromia

::For Annabelle. Took Ratchet a week to work out the mobility rotators. In battle, I don't have time to stop and set her out. My transform would crush her before sliding under the armor. Slagging waste to use it on this trash:: Ironhide sent, his tailgate raising into place. His simulated headlights rotated up, shining down the road like an ordinary truck. ::Let's roll::

Chromia felt excited as thermal readings indicated several human driven vehicles turning onto their road up ahead and congregating at the local high school parking lot.

::Perfect. Ready for more play acting as a human?:: Ironhide sent, the energon flowing in his lines as their love of excitement narrowed to impending action.

::Only if I don't have to walk in their shoes. Femmes balance on poorly designed spikes. Too fragile to shatter a spark even:: Chromia's tone light, readying her holographic emitter.

::You can do that in your protoform. Have all the mechs begging at your feet pads:: Ironhide

::Don't want all, just you light of my spark. And ready. On your mark:: Chromia

They pulled up slowly, confirming the group of young men. Their vehicles were arrayed a variety of colors, all mud covered on the wheels and several sporting rifles or shotguns on the back window. Two of the youths mock wrestled, the others cheering them on.

:: That's my cue:: Chromia grinned, her hologram shimmering into existence before compacting down and changing.

"Help! Help me!" a small boy ran into the light of their pickups. The neck of his red and yellow striped shirt torn, his jeans dirty and barefoot as he stumbled towards them. They were too far away to notice the piercing blue eyes he had or the way they slid to the shape appearing behind him. It was that instant that the predator reached out, grabbing the boy up into the air. The humans reacted instantly, swearing and moving.

"Y'all drop tha boy!" the leader screamed out, his red hair vivid in the lights as he grabbed a tire iron passing by his truck. The other youths yelled, grabbing or unsnapping shotguns or grabbing whatever improvised weapons from their pickups, including tow chains or crow bars.

The child screamed, dropping to the ground to stumble away. ::Your turn 'Hide:: Chromia sent as her hologram disappeared.

The predator smirked, seeing the angry group running at him. "Come and get me," he turned and ran the opposite direction, passing beyond the streetlight before shattering into a thousand lights. Further ahead, alien sounds faded as Ironhide completed his enhanced transform, dumping the quivering organic onto the cement. The ancient warrior mech grimaced at the odor wafting across his armor. Taking two steps back, his black armor merging with the shadows and pine trees as the man shakily climbed to his feet. Then the youths rounded the corner, yelling. Their volume increased as the tones deepened as he tried to stumble away. His half scream and their yells hid the transform sounds and squealing tires as a black top kick and a blue sports car raced out the main school entrance.

Two county sheriff patrol cars passed them, lights and siren blaring intent on the dispatched call. The human officers never alerted to the fact the voice dispatching them emotionless and unfamiliar. "Wanted suspect in kidnapping identified at Grant High School south parking lot. Proceed with caution, considered dangerous."

Ironhide and Chromia disappeared into the night, their driver less alt modes using thermal imagery instead of headlights as they drove.

::I kept my promise to Prime. His order specified I would not cripple or offline. He never mentioned humans taking care of their own:: Ironhide chuckled.

::Process there will be enough left online for them to arrest?:: Chromia asked.

::Not sure but he will never threaten a youngling again:: Ironhide

_To be continued.._


End file.
